


What's in a name?

by DestielIsFuckinReal



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Other, Pre-Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 16:46:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18210947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DestielIsFuckinReal/pseuds/DestielIsFuckinReal
Summary: In case you're wondering, I feel like Five is Italian because:1. he drinks a lot of coffee and drinking coffee in Italy is a personality trait2. he has the attitude™(note: I'm allowed to drag Italians because I'm Italian myself lololol)





	What's in a name?

Grace Hargreeves has always been the perfect wife, the perfect mother since she was born, if "born" is the right term to use. She never liked the term "created", too mechanical, too... inhuman. Most of the times, she feels like a person, especially around her kids. So yeah, Sir Hargreeves created and programmed her, but who really gave her her life were her children. She doesn't know how she got her name, but she's pretty sure it wasn't Hargreeves' doing since he always called the children by numbers. She doesn't like it, it's too cold, too unattached, like they're some sort of experiments and, maybe, Reginald thinks they are.

One night, when Sir Hargreeves goes to bed, Grace walks in his office. She knows where he keeps them, the documents of the kids and their mothers, where they're from and everything. She'll give them names, give them an identity to go by, like whoever it was did to her.

Grace finds the papers in a locked drawer of Reginald's desk, finding out he took the kids from allover Europe, Germany, Russia, Spain... Every document has a number on it, from 1 to 7, with a scribble of their powers written to the side, first and last name of the woman who gave them birth and city of provenance. She can feel datas downloading in her head, informations, meanings. She smiles, putting the papers back where she found them, the perfect names for her children filed in her memory.

The next day, when Hargreeves closes himself in his office like he always does when the training is over, Grace calls the kids in the living room. She looks at them, taking all of them in. Number One, so tall despite his young age and with dreams of space; Number Two, distractely playing with his knife, she would be worried if she didn't know how skilful he was; Number Three, her light brown skin, soft hair and dynamic personality; Number Four, who steals his sister's skirts and purple feather boa when he thinks no one's looking; Number Six, so small but with monsters inside of him; Number Seven, with a great talent of music, who learned how to play the violin with next to no help from Grace. She misses Number Five, lost somewhere, maybe afraid, not knowing how to come back to his siblings, back to _her_.

«Why are we here?» Number Two asks, moving his knife around his fingers.

Grace smiles, «I want to give you something» she says and motions for them to sit down. She then gives them a piece of paper each, keeping Number Five's for herself. It's silly, making one for him too knowing she'll probably never see him again, but it's good to hope.

«What's this?» Number Three asks, eyeing her paper.

«It's your names, sweetie. I chose them based on where you are from»

Six pair of eyes raise to look at her, a mix of surprise and gratefulness shining in them.

«Luther» Number One, Luther, says.

Grace nods, «Yes, from Germany, like Klaus» she says turning to Number Four.

«Oh, you hear that» Klaus tells his brother, «we share a country, big boy»

«Wh-what about me?» Number Two asks.

«Diego» Grace says, crouching in front of him, «from Spain» she then turns to Number Three, «Allison  from Greece. Ben, your birth mother was Hebrew. And» she looks at Number Seven, who's still staring at her paper, «Vanya,» when she looks up, her eyes are shiny, «from Russia»

«What about Number Five?» Allison asks.

«I haven't decided on a name yet» Grace lies, standing up. Telling them about his name would only hurt more and give them false hope that he'd be back. He disappeared months ago now.

«Thank you,» Vanya says, her voice broken, «mom»

Grace doesn't see it coming, just like she doesn't see the hug coming, from Vanya, Ben, Diego, all of them.

From then on, her children start calling her mom more often.

Grace doesn't know who gave her her name, she's been called a lot of things, but her favorite is, without a doubt, "Mom".

**Author's Note:**

> In case you're wondering, I feel like Five is Italian because:  
> 1\. he drinks a lot of coffee and drinking coffee in Italy is a personality trait  
> 2\. he has the attitude™
> 
>  
> 
> (note: I'm allowed to drag Italians because I'm Italian myself lololol)


End file.
